


All Hail Megatron

by amanounmei



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: BDSM, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Slave, Mind Break, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanounmei/pseuds/amanounmei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship between Megatron and Starscream began when they fought on the same team, but it turned into much more than the Seeker expected it to be. But can such a relationship develop on its own?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hail Megatron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yog-sothoth (thequeenbeetch)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenbeetch/gifts).



> Happy birthday, sister!

Starscream stumbled and fell onto his knees, one of his battered wings starting to leak energon from where it had cracked open. He could feel the wires connecting it to the rest of his frame sting as the weight of the metal pulled on those that were still intact and strained them.

“Better,” Megatron said in a deep, emotionless voice as he approached the defeated Seeker. “But still not good enough. You rely on flight far too much.”

He reached out for his hand, but it was slapped away as the flier slowly rose back to his feet. He looked the former miner over critically, assessing what little damage he was able to inflict in comparison to the damage he took. Even during training the new champion did not pull his punches, and Starscream knew it better than most.

“What did you expect?” he said, and realized it came out in a low growl he did not intend. “You asked for a flier and you're surprised I rely on flying?”

The other mech circled him. “And what will you do when you lose these?” he asked, running a hand over a damaged wing.

The jet whimpered, flinching away from the touch.

“By the looks of it, you'll die.”

He did not look at the champion. “And you beating me is going to prevent that.”

He could almost hear a smirk in the reply: “I'm giving you incentive to defend yourself properly.”

Hearing that, Starscream quite quickly and quite suddenly headed back inside the makeshift base, inside which a new arena was being constructed. “I'm getting myself fixed,” he said to the world in general.

Megatron almost wondered what that meant.

 

Starscream hit the wall and slid down to the cold floor with a groan, but did not dare get up. Megatron was not even looking at him after he had thrown him, instead yelling all sorts of insults at his brothers. Not exactly unsubstantiated insults.

“I give you _one_ order to carry out!” the commander spat at the two Seekers, making them retreat a couple steps away from him. “You couldn't even keep your optics on one transport, the _three_ of you!”

Skywarp risked an explanation: “The Autobots have fliers now-”

He was slapped across the face. “I don't care if they have Primus himself!” Megatron yelled, his voice increasing in volume with each sentence and echoing in the chamber. “You will go and you will find that transport, and you will retrieve the weapons. Do I make myself clear?”

Thundercracker bowed and his purple brother followed shortly. “Crystal clear, my Lord.”

It was not until they left the chamber that Starscream got back up onto his feet, and by doing so immediately attracted his master's attention.

“Some commander you are,” he said, watching the flier's optics widen a little. “Granted, you're in charge of absolute idiots, but your orders have the power to turn the tide.”

The Seeker felt his optics blinking on their own. “So you're saying it's my fault?”

“Largely,” Megatron sat on his throne. “A military unit is only as good as those in charge of it. Which certainly explains why the Primes have so far failed so miserably.”

The other mech found no words that were fitting an answer to that. Did the oh so grand once miner and has been gladiator even know how Seekers operated? What bonds trines shared? Probably not, and he did not seem to care. But he was right about one thing – someone had to take responsibility, so that the rest could carry on and fix that mistake.

He bowed despite the pain in his back. “Your forgiveness, Lord Megatron,” he said in a tone as humble as he could muster. “I won't fail you again.”

He received a smirk which he could not see from his position. “I will keep you to your word, because if you fail me again I will not be as forgiving.”

“Thank you,” the jet straightened up again, his Spark pulsing from all the forced praise he heard himself spewing. “All hail Megatron.”

 

The next time Megatron was not so forgiving.

Having spent days on a medibay berth, the Air Commander began finding ways to cover up his mistakes. At least once his hastily conceived attempts at fixing what he did wrong made everything even worse, so he opted for the last solution that came to his mind – and blamed Astrotrain.

He did not really want to do it. It was an impulse, a quick decision born of fear of what would be done to him had he confessed the truth. Astrotrain was necessary. Despite his pleas that he was not at fault the Lord punished him, but not enough to cripple him or otherwise remove him from the game.

So Starscream continued to lie.

 

One day the game changed.

They were alone, discussing strategies on how best to assault the citadels of Vos.  Shockwave and Soundwave were both not responding to hails, so at some point the discussions came to a halt, unable to proceed without additional points of view and expertise.

So their attention eventually shifted from battle plans to each other. Megatron began complimenting his second-in-command's magnificent frame,  t hose shining optics, the way he moved his hips as he walked.  And all throughout that little speech he wore a confident, smug and very demanding smirk.

And Starscream? He ran with it. He let himself be touched, at one point realizing that he  was enjoying it more than he expected.  His entire body felt warmer with each passing moment, his codpiece burning even after it opened, his wings twitching in anticipation. The other did not expect anything from him, showering him with uncharacteristically gentle affection and pleasure that made him want nothing more than for those sensations to last forever.

The unit hurt him at first, larger than his lithe frame could accommodate; but the motion was slow, patient and much more considerate than he thought his Lord could be. If he could have focused his thoughts he would have wondered where such a change came from, why he was being treated with such...

… such love.

As the pain slowly subsided and turned into more pleasure, he vaguely registered a whisper into his audial.

_You belong to me._

The significance of that was lost in the force of a powerful overload.

 

Starscream dared raise a hand on Megatron.

Things kept changing. The tide of war began to turn against them, and even though the greatest of Decepticon strategists already had plans on how to regain their advantage, some battles were lost.  One thing led to another, voices rose to shouts, insults flew, and the Seeker finally struck his commander across the face.

Before he had time to process what he had done, he found himself pinned to the nearest wall. The force of the grip threatened to crush his wrists, and a knee pressed into his abdomen so hard it bent the plating.

“Was there something you had to add?” Megatron asked in a voice low and as composed as only he could manage.

The jet let out a whimper. “I-I didn't-”

Narrowed optics forced him to continue. “Forgive me,” he whined. How was one single mech able to make him abandon all pride, all his strength with nothing more than a glare?

His Lord pulled back a little, and forced him down onto his knees, the flier's face then level with his codpiece. “For something like that?” he growled. “You will need to beg for it.”

Starscream stared at the plating before him,  optics slightly widened. Of course he knew what was expected of him. In any other situation he would have gladly obliged, but... He did not really want to. Not at that time, not under such pressure, not with his master so... angry.

A hand dug into his cheek hard and pulled him closer, making him hiss. He leaned in and licked over that silver codpiece, forcing his optics to go off so that he could focus on something else. So that he could silence out any sounds that reached him him. He thought Megatron was saying something, but he did not listen. He probably knew what it was, anyway; insults, obscenities, laughter at what a good little whore he was.

The unit pulsed rhythmically in his mouth, and he struggled to take it in deeper. The hand moved up from his cheek and tried to force him lower onto the throbbing shaft. Whimpering in pain and discomfort, the Seeker let it hit the back of his throat, and stilled himself as the other mech began moving him back and forth over it.

It hurt. He hated it. It was so much unlike those previous times when they made something that could have been mistaken for love. But if his master demanded it, he had to give, right? It if meant keeping his life...

The unit was withdrawn abruptly, leaving him with a burning throat. He looked up, waiting for the next order, but the harsh tone in which it was spoken suggested he should have figured it out on his own.

Megatron grabbed his wing, bending the metal, and shoved him forward. “On your fours!”

Gasping at the sudden pain, the flier managed to stop himself from falling onto his face, and quickly bucked his aft up. “For-give me, Master...” he said, and then realized he could do something more to be the good boy he was expected to be. Mustering what was left of his willpower he forced his codpiece to slide open.

The Lord smirked as he looked at the visibly dry port and the unit that barely poked out of its confines. “You're learning,” he said, running his hand over the port, scratching, but not hard enough to draw energon. A whine answered him. “This is your place and you best remember that.”

Starscream shivered, in humiliation more than anything else. His vision blurred as tears gathered in his optics. “Y-yes, my Lord...”

He stilled himself once again as the thick, pulsing unit pressed against his wiring, and he could feel it starting to spread him. He expected more pain, but instead the shaft moved lower, rubbing against him, and to that special neural node that sent a jolt of unexpected pleasure through him.

“Be grateful,” the other said, voice husky but calm. “You don't deserve the pleasure I'm about to give you.”

“I don't-” the Seeker said before he could even think about the words. “I don't deserve it, Master... thank you...”

A tingling between his legs let him know that the attention to his node was paying off, and the lubricant would lessen the pain that would  inevitably come.  But once he felt himself being penetrated without much of a warning,  there was only  bliss. Thrust by thrust, Megatron inched himself deeper into him, true to his promise.

With all the nerves inside him burning and shaking his entire body as the hardness brushed against them, Starscream heard himself utter praise and thanks for the amazing sensations. It was as if his brain became disconnected; he did not register anything but the unit pushing into him, his mouth spoke words he did not plan to say, and he smug laughter coming from behind him was but a distant echo.

It was not until he overloaded that he realized all of that. The groan into his audial as his Lord spilled his fluids inside him snapped him back to reality, and the tears finally flowed down his face.

He knew that this sort of thing would be expected from him even more often from then on. And with his treacherous port so deliciously satisfied, he knew he would obey, even if it meant crying himself to sleep afterwards.

 

The chains were cold, but the strikes easily diverted attention from them.

With his hands behind his back it seemed a wonder the whip only hit his aft. Each blow sent him forwards as his body flinched away on instinct, the chain attached to his collar chiming, and it became increasingly difficult to keep upright. But his Lord commanded it, so he had to obey.

“You're doing well, my pet,” Megatron said, smirking behind the kneeling Seeker.

“Thank you, Master,” Starscream replied with a genuinely pleased smile on his face.

Another strike of the whip. “What do you want?”

“I want to please my Master,” came the automatic, well-learned reply.

And another. “How?”

The flier whimpered at the sharp pain before quickly composing himself. “By doing whatever my Master commands.”

“Very good!” the other laughed and put the whip away, leaving his pet's aft covered in marks and scratches that reached under the paint. He yanked the chain attached to the collar and led him to the berth, forcing the Air Commander to quickly get up onto his feet.

Air Commander. What a joke. What a magnificent, delicious joke. Someone with such power in the Decepticon ranks, reduced to a mewling pile of masochistic pleasure.

He sat on the berth and spread his legs, revealing a codpiece that had already opened. The unit had not yet extended very far, but the soft wiring beneath it glistened with lubricants.

Without even a moment's hesitation Starscream knelt and buried his face in that inviting port, lapping the oils up, and then again as more came. He licked up and down, taking a moment to focus on the node, and revelled in his Lord's delighted moans. Each was a reward in itself, showing just how much he had learned over the years, and how much better he was at pleasing the mech that ow n ed him, mind, Spark and body.

“Thank you, Master...” he said between licks. A part of him wished he could use his hands to make it feel even better. “Thank you for fixing me...”

Megatron laughed, but it came out ragged, interrupted by more groans. “Oh, yes... There's a good boy...”

The tongue was pushed into him for a brief moment, silencing whatever else he had to say. Indeed, the Seeker was fixed. From rebellion, treachery and poorly conceived assassination attempts to a literal slave to pleasure, to an obedient little bitch that would do whatever he said without half a thought.

Things got so much better.

“Enough...” he breathed and the flier immediately withdrew, his chin drenched in his master's oils. Megatron sat up and reached behind him to remove the cuffs. “You've done well.”

Starscream let out what could only be described as a squeal of joy as his hands were freed. “I can do even better, Master!” he said. “If you let me, I'd like to-”

He earned a smirk in reply. “To?”

“If Master laid down on the berth...” the Seeker looked down, smiling softly. “His whore would ride him until he came inside him...”

The Lord chuckled and laid back, his now fully extended unit already throbbing as it waited for that promise to be fulfilled. The other mech immediately climbed up as well and straddled the commander, lithe and agile hands roaming his broad chest and making him exhale in delight.

“I love you, Master...” Starscream whispered, moving his hips over the unit so that his port would tease and lubricate it. He heard no reply other than lustful moans, but it was alright. He had already learned that his feeling was not really mutual, long ago; what he used to mistake for love was nothing of the sort, but he stopped caring. He just wanted to be close to this wonderful mech, and he needed nothing more.

Eventually he slid down onto the shaft, licking his lips as it stretched his insides. All of it went in on first try, easily, bottoming out with a quiet clank of plating against plating. Without hesitation he moved back up over it, then slammed himself down, and repeated that time after time. He watched his Lord's face intently, the pleasure visible in that victorious grin, the moans more and more frequent, and the shining optics fixed on Starscream's frame.

From time to time he would slow down and move his hips in circles instead, feeling that hardness stretch him even further and stroke the most intimate neural nodes.

“I love you, Master...”

Just as every other time since he submitted completely, he reached overload first, the pressure against his nodes only strengthened by Megatron's compliments and praise. He found himself eagerly thanking and begging for more even after the pleasure waned, leaving him trembling on top of the larger mech.

He did not even dare stop, though. He kept riding that magnificent unit, harder and faster as the Lord pushed against him in response to his little pet's pleas. Finally, with a loud groan he spilled into that hot port, making the Seeker cry out yet more thanks.

 

Sure enough the tides of war turned in their favour once more. Cities and entire regiments fell under the tide of the Decepticons, strengthened by their ideals and their unity in making the world a better place. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices for the greater good, of course. Sometimes people had to die.

And as their commander stood over the still bleeding corpse of Zeta Prime, the troops gathered around him began chanting in unison.

All hail Megatron.

All hail Megatron.

_All hail Megatron._

And Starscream stood silently beside him.


End file.
